The Kingslayer at the End of the World
by TheRedViper
Summary: On the advice of Eddard Stark, a 16 year old Jaime Lannister has been exiled to the Wall, to serve as a brother of the Night's Watch, as punishment for breaking his oath and slaying his king. Over the years to come serving as a brother of the Night's Watch, Jaime will learn to overcome his past identity and take on a new one. One of redemption and honour.


He had thought he knew cold when winter came upon Casterly Rock or King's Landing, but nothing compared to this. They were but a mild chill next to the vast and desolate snows and winds of the North. A hundred feet away from both sides of the Kingsroad were dead, twisted trees, half covered in snow. A couple of crows took flight as the cart rumbled along the gravel road.

_Crows_, Jaime thought bitterly. _Soon I'll be one of them. Just not the type that can fly. From now on I won't be going anywhere._

Jaime Lannister's breath was a frosty cloud as he breathed out and back in, sucking in the harsh cold of the afternoon. The sky was still a bleak grey from when it had rained before. _And they didn't even give us any bloody shelter. _

He studied the other two men with him in the back of the cart. Both of them wore dirty and marked chainmail and boiled leather, with specks of blood dotting them. Alliser Thorne was the one Jaime despised the most, he concluded. His deep black eyes peered at him with disdain and suspicion, and his mop of black hair fell to his shoulders, unkempt and messy. His face was hard and cruel and rigid. Despite only being in his mid thirties, Alliser Thorne was not at all a handsome man. No doubt the whores of King's Landing were his only female company.

"What are you glaring at, Kingslayer?" he demanded bluntly.

Jaime was about to come up with a clever retort about how amusingly bleak Thorne's situation was, until he realized he was in the exact same one. Instead he averted his gaze and said nothing. Instead he looked at the other man sitting next to Thorne, who was staring off into the distance. Jaremy Rykker, if Jaime remembered correctly. Around the same age as Thorne, perhaps a bit younger, he was somewhat less disastrously unattractive as his other Crownlands companion. His brown hair was cut short, as well as his beard, and despite his grim situation and the immense failure of the past month, he maintained a somewhat noble air about him. Jaime hadn't heard him speak once on their trip north.

Brushing a lock of gold hair from his eyes, Jaime leant back against the hard wood of the cart and closed his eyes, hoping to get some sleep before his arrival at his new home. When sleep didn't come to him, he remembered back to the events of a month ago.

"Your Grace," said the noble and honourable Lord Eddard Stark. "Why would you trust one that has already stained his blade with the blood of the king he swore to protect?"

"Damn it Ned, it had to be done," Robert Baratheon retorted, turning to face his friend. "I don't like the pompous little shit any more than you do, but Aerys had to be put down, we both know that."

"Of course, Robert. But by one of his own Kingsguard…"

The throne room was empty save for Robert, Eddard, Jon Arryn, Tywin Lannister and Jaime himself, standing there in his white armour, eyes averted off to a wall. Candles flickered on the racks, illuminating the cavernous hall as dusk fell outside. Jaime could see his father standing off to the side near a pillar, his eyes hard and untelling. Jon Arryn stood next to Robert, silent but watchful.

"Ned is right, Robert," the lord of the Vale remarked quietly. "The first and most important oath of the Kingsguard is to protect the king's life. Ser Jaime has shown he does not feel the need to abide by this oath. I strongly urge you listen to Ned and follow his advice."

Robert sighed and rubbed his brow, seemingly deep in thought. The other four waited for his answer, the black and twisted Iron Throne looming over them. Finally Robert waved a hand dismissively towards Jaime. "So be it. He'll take the black as soon as possible. I suppose you have no objections to this, Lord Tywin?"

Jaime faced his father and watched intensely, hopeful, _desperate_ that he would speak up for his son. Instead Tywin Lannister slowly shook his head and said not a single word. That was the last Jaime saw of his father before he was escorted out of the throne room by Baratheon men-at-arms.

_Fuck Ned Stark and his precious moral code. How twisted must that man's mind be to condemn the one that kills the man that ordered the brutal executions of his own father and brother? Does he truly value oaths and vows over family? _

Perhaps the hardest thing for Jaime to accept was that he'd never see Cersei again. He'd never again embrace her in his arms and kiss her hard on the lips. He'd never again hear her whisper his name as he fucked her. He'd never again feel love.

_I have Ned Stark to thank for that._

"Oi, Kingslayer, wake up!" came a shout from nearby.

Jaime opened his eyes and blinked several times to adjust to the sudden light of the day. Perhaps he actually had fallen asleep. The cart had stopped, and he could hear voices and sounds of life nearby. He sat up and looked around to see that they were in the centre of a small village. There were only nine or ten buildings, which was putting it strongly. They were more like large huts, thrown up with random bits of wood and hay and the odd brick here and there. Mud squelched as the villagefolk wandered amongst the huts carrying buckets and baskets and saying greetings to one another as they passed.

"I hope I haven't interrupted ya' beauty sleep, Lannister," the gruff and dirty brother of the Night's Watch Yoren said from the front of the cart.

"What is it?" Jaime asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm gonna go get us some food and water, if they can spare us any. Rykker, you're comin' with me."

"Why?" the former knight asked bluntly.

"I'll need ya' help to carry some things back to the cart. Plus you ain't really got much choice in the matter, as far as I can see."

Grudgingly, Jaremy clambered awkwardly past Thorne and hopped down off the cart onto the ground. He went around to meet Yoren, who had also climbed off. Before they set off, Yoren turned back to the cart and addressed Jaime and Thorne. "Either o' you two try to run, and I won't be happy. This is the North you're in now, and you won't make it far on foot by ya 'selves. And you," Yoren added, addressing Jaime specifically, "you're Tywin Lannister's own get, the youngest knight of the Kingsguard in history, and strikingly handsome as some o' the girls would say.

_Is he trying to woe me or warn me?_

"What's your point?"

"My point is you'll be recognized by anyone should ya' try to run, and seeing as how you're now a recruit of the Night's Watch, folk up here don't take too kindly to deserters."

_I've already slain a king, what's deserting compared to that?_

Jaime said nothing, but Yoren seemed appeased. He and Jaremy turned and set off in search of food and water. When Jaime was sure they were out of sight he stood up, walked across the cart and hopped off onto the ground.

"Didn't you hear a single word of what he just said, Kingslayer?" Thorne asked from behind him.

"I don't care what he said. I am _not _joining the Night's Watch. My place is down south."

"Your _place _is wherever they say it is, now. Do you really think you'll be welcomed back in King's Landing with open arms? You were sent up here for a reason, in case you'd forgotten."

"So were you."

Thorne's mouth curled into a mix of a snarl and a grin. "Aye, I was sent up here by your bloody father for staying a loyal man to my king. Not that your father would know anything of loyalty, nor you. I suppose it runs in the family."

Jaime narrowed his eyes and took a threatening step forwards. "Watch your tongue when it comes to my family, Thorne."

"Or you'll do what? Strike me down with your impressive swordsmanship skills? I might be worried, were you armed."

"Come down here then and we'll see how dangerous I am even when unarmed."

Thorne merely laughed and didn't make any move.

Jaime waited a few seconds before continuing. "Laugh all you want, I'm still going."

"Aye, and I'll see how far you get, Kingslayer." Thorne seemed to be very amused by this entire display.

Jaime turned and began walking away briskly, trying not to draw too much attention to himself.

_I have to leave now. I have to get back to Cersei._

"And where do you think you're going, eh?"

_It's Yoren. Fuck._

Jaime sighed and turned slowly to see Yoren standing ten feet away from him, his hand at his waist where a dagger lay sheathed. His face showed that he expected something like this to happen.

"Go on then Kingslayer; run off if it's your heart's desire."

"Truly?"

"Aye, you can run. And I'll hunt ya' down."

_If I try to run he'll throw that dagger of his square in my back, I don't doubt. I'll have to wait for another chance to escape._

Jaime reluctantly walked past Yoren and back to the cart, where Thorne was watching with an amused grin on his face. Jaime gave him a poisonous glare as he climbed back up.

"Maybe next time, eh, Lannister?"

_Next time I'll be sure to cut your throat first, Thorne._


End file.
